The Scales of Balance
by DreamOfRedFlowers
Summary: The balance of nature has been disrupted. It is an old wound, at least a thousand years old, that never healed. Recent events have widened the void and the world near the point of no return. Will the gangs of Mystic Falls and New Orleans be able to learn to see the bigger picture and remedy the damage they have caused? Klaroline and some others! Rated M for future chapters.
1. Prologue - Wolf Pride

**Hello everyone! **

**Ok, so first things first…this is my first story ever. I always have so many ideas about how I would like things to end in movies and TV shows but this is my first actual attempt to put one of them on paper.**

**This is supposed to be a multiple chapter story but I don't really know where it will end or if I should even continue writing it, so if you do survive until the end of the prologue please let me know what you think!**

**This is set after 2x07 of The Originals and but after TVD 6x09 and goes partially AU from then on. It will eventually be Klaroline, the characters just need to deal with some personal stuff first!**

**No Beta, so all the mistakes are mine, feel free to point them out.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own absolutely nothing, everything belongs to The CW, I'm just using their characters to have a bit of fun!**

**Enjoy!**

Prologue

**wolf Pride**

**…****I now begin from the middle, for the light that shone on the beginning has long since faded, and that of the ending has yet to be lit…**

The first thing he became aware of, as he slowly regained his senses, was that he was breathing.

And breathing seemed like an unbearable torture he couldn't stop enduring.

Bones, muscles, skin, organs. He could swear that every cell in his body had been set on fire and then frozen solid. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, each beat striking new life through his aching limbs, increasing the pain tenfold in doing so.

**_I am alive_**

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind that the memories of the past day started invading his vision, replaying themselves behind his closed eyelids like a nightmare brought to life and projected on a screen.

His body when suddenly numb. Physical discomfort become nothing as his emotions took hold of him once again.

Never had he felt pain so intense. Never had he experienced an anguish so potent, so deep. No, to experience such agony was something he had never even fathomed possible.

What had he done? Had he really been so blind? How?

Anger and self loathing surged through him. He deserved this pain. He deserved worse, much, much worse.

As tears begin streaming down his face he suddenly wished he could drown in them. Wouldn't that be a apt punishment for his sins?

He who had watched his son shed secret tears for a thousand years, wishing he could wipe them away, cursing his phantom nature for preventing him from closing his arms around his child and holding him close to his (now beating) heart.

He had blamed Mikael then. And Esther. And Finn and Elijah. Even Kol and Rebekkah. Everyone.

The man that had mercilessly crushed his son"s spirit with spite and violence, the mother that had failed to protect and love him as he deserved with reserve and indifference, the elder brothers who had stood **aside** and not **at his side **as he was pushed beyond the limits of human endurance time and time again. The younger siblings that had naively taken advantage of one that would go to the ends of the world and back for anyone that showed him even a hint, just a **hint**, of possible affection.

But never himself.

He, the father that had not come for him, that had remained hidden in the shadows cast by the full moon while his son was left to believe that each new day would bring nothing but a new depth of sorrow. The coward that had not found it in himself to admit his shortcomings and swallow his pride, to rescue his own flesh and blood.

Somewhere along the line he had convinced himself that leaving him there had been the right choice. That some day his son would awaken his true nature and come and find him on his own, and somehow this would make the past go away, heal his wounds and set everything right. That the only reason he had become this monstrous shadow of himself was the curse of vampirism that his mother had cast upon him.

Oh, how wrong he had been. How utterly and ashamedly in denial.

He opened his eyes, blinking away the remaining tears and allowing his vision to adjust. Fighting back the urge to pass out, he sat up slowly, studying his surroundings. A fire had been lit and was now bathing the small room with warmth and light from the fireplace across the room. Groaning he tried to get up and stand on his feet, holding on to the bed post for support, but fell back on to the bed.

She was by his side in a flash.

"_Take it easy there, tiger_" - said the woman. She sounded as exhausted as he felt.

Ansel shook his head, tears threatening to spill again. She took his hans in hers and sat beside him on the bed. There was so much he wanted to say. He gave himself a few seconds to find his voice, but it seemed to have vanished, along with his soul. He felt hollow, were it not for the wrenching guilt that was raging a storm in his heart.

"_It"s ok…"_ - she said - "_…everything is going to be ok, I promise. I know you are in pain right now, you just came back from the dead, AGAIN, and it can be traumatic for the body. Just keep breathing and try to relax. Your werewolf healing will do the rest._"

Those words were meant to comfort him, he knew that, but he couldn't bear the kindness in them.

**"**_My son killed me" - _he whispered.

"_I know" - _she sighed - "_I always knew he would." _

She held his gaze. He couldn't bear the look of understanding she bestowed upon him. He didn't deserve compassion. He stood up to get away from her, trembling on his stiff legs, only to collapse on the armchair next to the bed whimpering in pain. The pain gradually eased back into a light sting. She waited for him to continue, hands clasped in front of her, eyes to the ground.

_"I failed him." _ Ansel admitted in a hoarse voice, his gaze fixed on the fire, not really seeing.

_"I am sorry you had to go through that." - _She paused and took a deep breath before letting out a small, unhappy laugh. _- "So much for wolf pride, uh?"_

The attempt to lighten the mood failed miserably. He looked at her, her features worn and sad, strained by having the weight of the world balanced on her shoulders.

Had he listened to her the first time, had he swallowed his pride, letting go of those stiff and dated traditions that no longer belonged to this world…if only…

Closing his eyes for a moment he allowed his memories to wander back to their first meeting, three months ago.

His lips twitched, the thought almost made him smile…

**_Yes _**_-_ he thought -**_ wolf pride indeed…_**

_*** Flash Back - Three Months Ago ***_

Adjusting to this new era hadn't been a struggle as much as he had expected. Granted, he had watched the changes of time from the Other Side for a millennium, so he was up to date, so to speak, with the workings of technology, modern clothing and the such, but being little more than a spirit stuck in an everlasting limbo hadn't really given him a chance to get any firsthand experience with any of that. Even in the seclusion of a forest one could not be completely free from these things nowadays.

Still, so far he had managed better than he thought he would when, over a month ago, upon realizing that he was once again in the world of the living, he had taken his first **real** breath in over a thousand years. He had been disoriented at first, a million different sensations had gone through him and it had taken a full day before the truth of his return had dawned on him.

Only hours before he had been standing by the crib of his new born grandchild, looking down on that tiny bundle of covers with awed expression and a loving smile.

It wasn't the fleeting ray of hope he had often felt while watching his son living some rare moment of peace, nor the brief relief that had washed over him when he had witnessed Nicklaus" mate finally, **finally**, give in to those feelings that she had smothered and crushed deep inside her undead heart. Those blessed but, oh, far too short hours during which he though his son would never be alone again.

No, this was pure, unchallenged happiness. A deep sense of pride and joy that blossomed in seeing the same feelings reflected on his son's face as he held his daughter in his arms.

That was the last thing he remembered, before waking up with a strangled cry, alone, in the middle of nowhere.

He was at no loss to understand **who** had done this. Only Esther, his long lost love, would have had the power, or a reason, to bring him back. But he also knew that she was far from being the woman he had fallen so deeply for al those years ago, and that her motives couldn't have been neither pure nor selfless.

Which is why, although every bone in his body, every fiber of his very soul, had been screaming at him to go, run, and find his son, see him with real eyes, touch him, hold him…he had not.

He quenched his deep rooted need for companionship by saving and mentoring Jackson, a young werewolf he had found deep in the bayou, barely alive after having been betrayed by his pack and left for dead.

He saw much of the man Nicklaus could have been in him.

His knowledge of werewolf traditions was limited and fragmented, but Jackson had the keen instinct of an alpha, and immediately sensed, and consequently submitted to, Ansel"s seniority and experience.

Even when, after only a few days from his return, the rumors reached him of what had transpired on that fateful night when, as Ansel soon learned, he had lost his grandchild to the wretchedness of corrupted wolves and soulless witches, he did not make his move.

His son was a wolf after all.

He would find him, he was sure of it. He must feel the call of his own blood, even through the deepest of sorrows, it was in every wolf's nature to answer to it.

Yes, his son would come to him, when the time was right, just as he had al those years ago. And this time the Destroyer would not stand in their way, he was no more. A tight smile graced his lips.

And so he waited.

The sound of broken twigs and crunching leaves show him out of his thoughts. Jackson was sleeping, snoring loudly inside the cabin behind him. He stood up, quickly reaching for his bow and aiming an arrow towards the noise. Whom ever it was clearly had no idea how to move in the woods.

The steps were light and quick, closing in fast. His grip tightened around the weapon, ready to strike…then suddenly the bow was gone, thrown upwards and into the air as if pulled away by some unknown force.

Magic. Witch. Esther? No…This smell did not belong to her, he would have recognized it anywhere, it was someone else…but then who…

_"I mean you no harm…" - _She said, as she appeared from behind a tree.

She was young, perhaps in her late twenties. Her black, tight jeans were incased in black leather boots, her white blouse was sleeveless and followed the shape of her body. He studied her.

She wore jewelry but not to excess. Her long brown hair was tied back in a messy bun, with only a few stray locks framing her face, revealing her green eyes and delicate features. Pleasing but not sharp, simple yet incredibly captivating. She looked almost harmless. **Almost**.

His senses were sharp, and though her appearance might have fooled a human or a lesser wolf, he could feel the power emanating from her. He knew better.

_"Your kind is not welcome here, witch." - _He responded. - _"Leave. NOW."_

Her eyes never wavered, she made no move to leave. He stepped forward, grabbing the knife he had left on the near by chair. She didn't move, didn't even flinch as he suddenly ran towards her and placed the blade at her throat, growling angrily at her lack of response.

_"I said…LEAVE" - _he said in a menacing whisper - "_Before I change my mind and…"_

_"Sorry, but I can"t do that" - _she spoke, interrupting what would have been a well rehearsed threat, looking directly into his eyes._ - "Your son Nicklaus and his siblings are in grave danger. I need your help to save them…"_

He pressed his blade harder against her skin, looking at her with a mixture of curiosity, anger and mistrust.

**_Does she know? How?_**

Only Esther knew about his return, and he would not let anyone, not even her, use him against his son, let alone a stranger.

_"I have no children. I have no son." - _He denied, not allowing his voice to betray his emotions

The huff of a frustrated laugh escaped her lips, before she spoke again.

_"Lying won"t do you any good with me, Ansel, son of Hakon, Alpha of the North East Atlantic Clan. You are the long dead lover of Esther Mikealson, father of Nicklaus Mikealson, the Original Hybrid. As I said, your son and his siblings are in trouble, so if you are done with the neanderthal act we can move on to the part where I tell you what we need to do to save them…"_

He dropped his knife, startled by her words, and took a step back.

_"Who are you?"_

_"My name is Astra." _- he gasped at the name, a distant memory returning, hitting him with the force of a tidal wave, and she smiled. - _"We have a lot to talk about…"_

The woman kept talking. Each word that pure out of her mouth only unsettled him more.

It couldn't be true, could it? It had to be a joke. The sick plan of a deranged mind. Lies made up to lure him in some twisted web of deceit…he had known for some time now that Esther was not the woman he thought she was…but this? No, it couldn't be.

Yet this woman seemed so genuine, so passionate in her advocacy, her heartbeat steady, no signs of agitation other than a veil of hidden anger towards the woman he had once called his love.

At some point during her speech, he had sat down, his legs no longer able to support him.

He barely registered it when she sat on the ground, across from him. In between them the small fire he had started earlier was slowly fading into ashes. She was silent now, her tale suspended in mid air, awaiting his response. Probably wanting to judge his reaction before asking him whatever it is that she needed him to do. He tried to regain control of his wandering thoughts.

_"You have to go to him. Now, before it's too late" - _she said.

This shook him back to reality. Out of all the things that she had said, this was the only one he fully registered, and also the only one he would never accept. The only one he already had an answer for.

_"__No. He will come to me" _- he countered - _"When the time is right he will find me."_

_"Did you hear the 15 minutes of monologue I just ranted out or did you think it was a damned soliloquy?" _- she exclaimed in a hushed, incredulous tone.

She looked confused and astonished.

_"Tradition demands that HE come to me."_

_"But he doesn't even know you are alive! He thinks you are dead, and he knows nothing of your traditions!"_

_"He will answer the call of his blood. He will feel it on the next turning. I will not defy the traditions of my ancestors. Wolves are creatures of pride, my dear." - _As he spoke he turned and looked at her, staring directly in those deep, green eyes. She knew nothing of the workings of a werewolf.

On the contrary, he was not only a born alpha, he was also the keeper of the knowledge and traditions of his people. He knew how it had to be. And nothing would change his mind.

_"Are you saying that you won"t do anything? That you"ll just stand there and do NOTHING? After all I told you?"_

_"__I will help you, I give you my word that if all you said is true you will find an ally in me. I will convince him of what must be done, but not before he comes to me. This is how it must be between me and him. You cannot understand witch. These are the laws of the wolves, our pride and our legacy."_

She held his gaze and must have read the seriousness of his statement in his eyes. She stood up, agitated and uneasy, clearly this as not the outcome she had foreseen. He thought he would have to fight to get her to leave, he opened his mouth to speak again but stopped.

Out of nowhere she let ought a strangled laugh and her demeanor changed completely. While shaking her head she suddenly smiled. When she spoke she sounded almost like a disappointed parent.

_"You know, somehow I knew you were not going to take the easy path ahead. I guess I just can"t help my self from hoping for the best…" _

He frowned, surprised. She was giving up too easily, and if Esther had taught him anything, was that witches never gave up. She must have something up her sleeve.

_"My decision is final." - _he repeated. Watching with weary eyes the young witch he waited for her next move.

Yet she looked resigned. After taking a few, deep breaths she reached in the pockets of her jeans and said:

_"Take this at least." _- she opened her hand to show him a necklace of black cord with a small, deep red stone hanging from it. - "_It will allow you to see what you are blind to, and undo the undoable."_

This was it.

He considered his options, if he didn't take what she offered, she would probably never leave, but on the other hand her riddle could hide many meanings, not all of them good.

But if her words earlier were sincere, and he had seen no indication of her lying to him, then her only interest was to stop HER, not harm him or his son.

He took the pendant from her hand and put it on.

_"I do not understand your riddles, but I will wear this if it will end the argument."_

Her expression softened a little. From inside the cabin Jackson gave a loud snore, and they both smirked at the sound.

_"Well then, I guess that is my cue to leave. Get some sleep, and believe me, my riddles will make sense soon…I"ll be seeing you, Ansel." _

He said nothing and watched her go. Before she was out of sight she stopped and turned back.

She looked at him then, a small smile spreading on her face.

_"Tomorrow is a full moon…trust your instincts Alpha, and you will find that sometimes the people we love never really leave us" _- she said, and walked away into the night, leaving an ever more confused Ansel to his thoughts.

_*** End of Flash Back ***_

If only he had listened then!

Now he understood what the riddle had meant. The moment Nicklaus had slashed him, he felt a strange surge of energy go through him. He felt pain, but not the physical kind, and not his own.

The pendant had somehow connected him to his son, soul to soul, and he felt what he felt, saw what he saw.

Insurmountable anger at his father, for allowing him to suffer as a child.

Unprecedented hope, in the idea that one of his parents saw in him more than a monster.

Unbearable guilt, for the act he was committing, for betraying the trust of the only man that had loved him unconditionally.

Unending regret, for he was relinquishing his greatest desire, love, for another.

Determination to keep his caught safe.

Earth-shattering fear, that she had somehow passed the point of no return and had finally become the monster everyone saw in him.

Incredulity, for he not even he had been sure that he could do this, slay the only blood.

And more, feelings so deep and jumbled he could not put a name to them.

In that moment he **knew**. He **should** have done for his son what he was doing for his daughter. He had valued pride over his own blood, and this…this was his punishment.

To die at the hands of the person he loved the most.

Only he was not dead.

He now realized that the pendant had been his salvation and had undone what Nicklaus had done. Somehow, it had given him insight into the deepest wounds that his son harbored in his heart and had blocked his passage to the land of the dead and kept him amongst the living.

_"Are you ready to listen now?" _- said she - _"Time is running short and I will need your help if we are to save them." _

He opened his eyes.

Funny, he didn't remember closing them. The healing process was almost over, he could feel his strength returning. A new form of determination, one similar to what he had felt in his son, arose in him.

He had failed twice already. Never again.

_"What would you have me do?"_

If the tired smile on Astra"s face was any indication, there was much to be done.

**So, what do you think? Should I go on or should I hang my pen and paper to the wall and walk away?**

**Please review and be as critical as you will!**

**Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 1 - Beasts and Princes

Hi everyone!

I know, I'm a horrible person, sorry for the long wait. I promise the next chapter will come out soon!

This isn't a very long chapter, but before I go deeper into the story I just wanted to give a clear picture of Caroline and Klaus's state of mind, which will explain a LOT of their behavior later on...

Thanks to everyone that reviewed, followed and favored my story, it means more than you know!

Hope you like it, enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

**BEASTS AND PRINCES**

**…****only the shadows remain of that which is gone, but oh, it stings still, the faded memory of that warmth, for love is both a balm and a poison that can reach far…**

Caroline couldn't sleep.

Not national news material, especially since it had been years since she had managed to have a long, nightmare-free slumber.

Ever since that first night, when she had woken up in transition, scared and alone, surrounded by the scent of death and blood and medicine, Orpheus seemed to have become an elusive friend.

And to be fair, who could blame her for living in a near constant state of restless agitation and dreams that always ended in bloodshed and tears?

Hello, anyone!? After all the horrible…

A chill ran through her, and she opened her eyes, turning again under the covers, starring at the ceiling, trying to steady her emotions.

NO! She wasn't going there. She swore to herself she would never go there again. Last time had been the LAST time. Like, forever.

She wasn't a silly little cheerleader playing the victim act anymore, thank you very much. She was an ass-kicking, smart-mouthed and quick thinking vampire ready to take the world head on. Yep!

No tears and breakdowns for her, no sir. She was sooooo over THAT Caroline.

So what if she had been tortured? Three times. Once by her own father. For days.

Who cared if she had been brutally, and repeatedly, touched against her will in the worse way any woman could be touched?

Should the world stop turning if she could no longer set foot inside her house, actually, scratch that, her entire home town?

Was it really that big of a deal if every man she ever loved had turned around and chosen anyone and anything over her?

Or that her best friend, one for whom she had killed and done horrible thing for, had desperately tried to cut all and any ties to her and left her behind like she had never existed?

I mean, really now, hadn't Elena been through worse? Or Bonnie, who was still stuck in someone else's personalized hell? Or Enzo, or Alaric, or Matt, or…

Her mind was racing, reciting a long, well memorized, list of excuses and names, but somehow it just didn't seem to be calming her.

Ugh! It was one of THOSE nights.

She had no idea why her method had stopped working.

Because yes, Caroline Forbes being who she was, she had a well studied, clinically approved (not that she had spent hours pouring over psychology books to be able to claim that, nope, not at all…) and orderly method to keep her self pity in check. And it had worked just fine, it really had, until that night a few days ago in her car, after the disaster dinner with Stefan. That was the first time her impeccably studied method had failed her.

Caroline opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, knowing there was no way she would get some much needed beauty sleep. Slowly she got up from bed, careful not to wake Elena. Her eyes fell on the empty bed in the corner. Bonnie's bed…

**No Caroline, hold it.** — she thought

Sadness and tears would have to wait.

She took off her pajamas and got dressed as stealthy and quickly as she could. She was out the dorm room within minutes.

She made her way through the campus and into the woods. Further and further, walking fast, hoping no one would see her. The deeper she went, the calmer she felt. Finally, after what could have been hours or mere minutes, she reached her destination.

In her whole 19 years of living in Mystic Falls, and she only had discovered this place during the past summer. She had been lost in thought, after having discarded the latest lead on how to undo traveler magic, trying to rack her brain on what to do next, and she had stumbled upon this little corner of the world. I mean literally stumbled. She hadn't been looking where she was walking and her foot got caught in a root that stood out from the ground. Cursing her clumsiness she had massaged her leg and looked around.

It was a small clearing in the woods, nothing special really, but it spoke to her. The trees around her were bare, the leaves almost all gone, fallen to the ground where they lay, like a carpet of gold and red and millions of different shades of warm colors. The sky was darkening, but she didn't even notice. The whole place seemed to shine its own light. A couple of fallen trees and branches created something that looked like a sculpture on one side, intricate and solid and beautiful, directly opposite a strange group of small bowlders, made from a whitish rock she couldn't identify.

For some reason she didn't even want to begin to explain, this little forsaken corner of the world had felt more like home that any other place in the world.

It had taken her a while to recognize the feeling, and even if a small part of her brain screamed at her that this couldn't be normal, she just couldn't help it. She felt safe and warm and, in some crazy way that would have made Sigmund Freud proud of her, loved.

She basked in that feeling, sitting there, on fallen leaves and broken twigs, smiling like a child on Christmas morning.

It wasn't until sunset that she shook herself out of her happy stupor and returned to Whitmore, with renowned hope and far more optimistic than before.

This is where she headed tonight, and where she had spent more nights than she cared to admit in the past few months.

She sat on one of the fallen logs, hugging her knees tightly, and at last allowed he mind to wander freely.

Here she was just Caroline.

Not Elena's best friend, not Stefan's god knows what now, not Damon's favorite joke, nor Enzo's new project/quest/whatever. She wasn't the Sheriff's shallow and giddy disappointment. She didn't have to be bubbly or cheerful or nice. She didn't have to pretend to be less smart, or less intuitive. There was no need for her to wear her well polished, dumb blonde smile. She didn't have to hide her pain.

It was one of those nights when, try as she might, she just couldn't pretend to be the Caroline others had shaped and moulded.

These were the nights when she allowed herself to cry.

And cry she did.

Hot, salty tears and chocking sobs that left her breathless and exhausted.

Her mind no longer tried to avoid the painful memories and horrifying images that haunted her. She just…let go.

It was a while before the sobs finally subsided and she was able to think clearly once again.

She just couldn't figure out why this was hitting her so hard all of a sudden. If she was going to have a breakdown, it should have happened a long time ago. Her method had worked so far, her list of names and reasons had always kept her on track. Why had her fight with Stefan changed that?

Ok, yes, Stefan was her best friend, emphasis on WAS. And yes, it really hurt that he only saw her with brotherly eyes.

Stefan was everything she had ever wanted, the man of her dreams. Kind and understanding, with a smile that could stop any supermodel on her tracks and a heart as big as they come. His soul, as tortured and maimed as it was, never really gave way. His humanity was still there, challenged but alive and in full force.

He had done terrible things, but he wasn't a terrible person.

And he cared for her, or so she had thought.

He had been the online who had ever stopped and asked her how she felt or bothered to care about what she wanted. Maybe she never had the same priority as Elena had on his to do list, but still…not even Tyler, hell, not even her own MOTHER had ever cared enough to stop and wonder about little old Caroline.

And after Elena had chosen Damon and Stefan had made his peace with it she just…let her hopes up a little too much. She felt like it was the natural course of things, to come after her. To be the one he could project all that epic love on after Elena had thrown it to the wind.

Didn't she deserve at least that?

Caroline had come to the grim, yet realistic, conclusion that she was no princess with a knight in shining armor waiting around the corner for her a long time ago. Epic loves and happily ever afters hadn't been written for her. She was more like one of those characters on the background, ever present in the stories but never at the center.

Elena and Stefan were the main story. One of those tragic Titanic type love stories, that made it into songs and sonnets, that made little girls sigh and men roll their eyes.

Caroline was the one that came after. That girl that would never really be THE one, but came as close to it as the hero could hope for. Like Rose's husband after Jack.

She had hoped to be at least worthy of THIS.

But no. As it seemed, she had fooled herself one again. She hadn't been important enough for him to try, for him not to give up, for him to stay…Just like with Klaus…

Shit.

Caroline took one, deep, calming breath. Then another, and another. She should have known this train of thought would end up here. The sorest bruise of them all.

She would never, ever, dare to say it out loud, but she hadn't wanted him to go.

Caroline had tried to be strong as he walked away, watching with a sense of deep dread every step he had taken away from her. Inside, she had been screaming for him to stop, to come back, to stay, to take her with him. But she didn't say a word. She simply stood there, barefoot in the middle of the forest watching as he disappeared behind the trees, tears silently falling down her cheeks.

She hadn't really meant it, you see. Yes, she had plans, and yes, they didn't include him. She would finish her first year in college and choose a major, then graduate with honors. She would do a bit of traveling then, maybe tour Europe for a few months. Then she would move to some big city, like New York, or Boston perhaps, and find a job. Have a career and a few hobbies to fill the time. It was all planned out.

But what she kept to herself is that she wished they did include him. Because when she looked at him, for the first time since she had first laid her eyes on Damon Salvatore, she had allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, she had a shot at a happy ending.

Pathetic right? Hoping that your prince charming is a millennium old monster, who had probably been the source of inspiration for every horror story ever told.

Still, somewhere along the way she had started to believe him, to think that it was more than just a game to get into her pants.

She had fallen for it. All the charming words and beautiful promises, the lavish presents and stolen glances. No matter how guarded she kept her fragile, bandaged heart, he always found that one little crack to wiggle in. In the end, she had given in, hoping he would pass that unspoken test she had presented him.

He failed. He left.

All that was left for her to do was dust the pieces of her, once again, broken soul and gulp them back down, where she wouldn't see, where she didn't have to face the fact that he was gone.

That was when her emotions had caught up with what her rational mind had been telling her all along. She finally realized that happy endings just didn't happen to people like her.

Because, in real life, beasts don't turn into princes.

They look you in the eye and lie. They make you feel special, like they are showing you a part of themselves that no one has ever seen. Glimpses of emotions, hints of sincerity, grand gestures of love and pretty words that take hold on that hidden part of you that still believes in "once upon a time" stories. You turn into putty in their experienced hands (and oh my, were his experienced…), and all it takes is for them to catch you in a vulnerable moment, when you are desperate for something good to hold on to in the dark, and you fall.

And it felt good, oh, so good, to fall on him. The way he looked at her. The butterflies in her stomach and how his muscles seemed to contract under her slightest touch.

The taste of his lips, his strong, calloused hands mapping her body, touching her with featherlight roughness, as if he feared if he held her too close she would crumble in his hands. The look in his eyes when he filled her for the first time, shocked and lost and full of unconditional love…Like a scene from a romantic comedy, she swore she even heard music. The magic of love and all that. A dream come true.

But now it was a nightmare. It had all been a lie, she only saw what she wanted to see…what he had wanted her to see.

During those rare nights that she actually managed to sleep, there he was. His strong hands, the taste of his skin, that beautiful expression after their first round, when neither spoken, eyes locked in each other's gaze, as if he was staring at the most precious thing in the world. She had felt so complete, so content. She didn't even imagine, in her wildest dreams, that these sensations even existed. Then he was gone, and she felt more empty than ever.

She tried to pick herself up and forget.

She destroyed the drawing to prove to her friends that it had meant nothing.

She sold the magnificent blue dress to prove to her mother that she was over it.

She fed like a starving animal her crush for Stefan, to prove to herself that she could still find someone else.

Nothing worked.

She regretted the drawing, and retrieved as many shards of it as she could.

She secretly bought the dress back and hid it under a floor board in her old room.

She allowed herself to have feelings for someone who was a better person, with an actual functioning humanity, and felt worse than before.

And that had broken her. Because if even someone like Stefan, with his big mushy heart, couldn't stand to be around he…It was proof of her most dreaded fear.

Her father, Matt, Damon, Tyler, Stefan…Klaus…they weren't the problem. SHE was.

And they were right, weren't they? Just look at her now. Alone, sitting in on a fallen branch in the middle of nowhere, crying over herself like a stupid child.

Wasn't she never this side of herself? Hadn't she learned to keep her damn emotions in check? Nope. She was still the insecure loser that she had been as a human.

No. No more.

Caroline stood up abruptly.

This was pathetic. She had to stop thinking about the past, look forward and keep her head on the problems at hand: bring Bonnie back, then undo the Traveler's curse.

Yes, that is what she needed. Just like she did with her hunger, if she managed to keep her mind from thinking about it, the pain would go away. All she had to do was keep busy until she forgot about it. She had a system, if she didn't stray from it like tonight, she would be fine.

She looked up only to see the horizon starting to lighten. She smiled to herself, drying the remaining tars that still lingered on her face. A new day awaited her, no more time for tears.

She had work to do.

She took stock of herself, dusted her clothes and pushed her hair out of her face. To hell with pain. She would shove it back where it came from and be happy, period. End of discussion.

Her smile widened. With her conviction more resilient with every step, she headed back to her dorm room, feeling much better with herself, and wondering if she would still have time to take a nap before Elena woke her up…

What she didn't notice were the pair of wide eyes that followed her as she made her way back, or the fact that the clearing was just behind that imaginary line traced by the Traveler's curse, right at the edge of Mystic Falls.

So? Like it, hate it?

Let me know!

Love you all...


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